


when the sun rises

by old_starlit



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, i need to stop writing lams, its getting unhealthy, purely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9639656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_starlit/pseuds/old_starlit
Summary: Alex looks down at John again. He doesn’t want to leave the warmth of the bed, doesn’t want to leaveJohn, but he really has to finish that article...He carefully disentangles himself from John, hoping he doesn’t wake him. He rises, throwing back blankets, and stands carefully up. He’s almost off the bed when a hand grabs his wrist.John sits up and tries to blink the sleep from his eyes. He peers at Alex tiredly. “Alex?” He speaks in a hushed murmur, voice slightly scratchy. “Where’re you going?





	

It’s quiet.

The kind of quiet that sinks through your bones. The kind of quiet that stops time. The kind of quiet that envelops a room and settles in a silent sort of stillness.

Alex shifts in his bed. He doesn't like _quiet_. He always feels the need to fill the gap with words, feels unable to stay silent for too long. He wants to say something, but bites back the words before he does. He’d transfer them all on paper soon enough. He closes his eyes once, then opens them again. It’s too quiet.

His fingers tap on the side of the bed as his arm dangles, angling his head to see the clock, the numbers glowing faintly in the dark. It’s 6:00. He should get up and start writing. He may not have work tomorrow, but the words will always be there, waiting to be said.

Alex turns away from the clock and towards the body sleeping next to him, curled around him, a constant source of warmth in this cold September morning. It's unfair, Alex thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, that John Laurens can look beautiful even in sleep. Or maybe that's just him looking through rose-tinted glasses. It doesn't really matter.

They're bathed in street lights, both of them, as a result of the curtains being still open. They must have forgotten to close them last night. It gives Alex enough light to see John, and that’s enough for him. The sky outside is dark, not even a single star visible. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it will, soon. Though, in Alex’s mind, the sun rises when John does.

John makes a small noise, attempting to bury into his pillow but, in reality, buries into Alex’s shoulder. His eyes flutter, before shutting tightly closed again.

Alex smiles at him, thinks, _how did I get so lucky_ , traces the slope of his nose, maps his constellations of freckles, smiles again. He looks at the clock again and huffs out a sigh.

6:01. He should really get up and write. 

Alex looks down at John again. He doesn’t want to leave the warmth of the bed, doesn’t want to leave _John,_ but he really has to finish that article...He carefully disentangles himself from John, hoping he doesn’t wake him. He rises, throwing back blankets, and stands carefully up. He’s almost completely off the bed when a hand snakes out and grabs his wrist.

John sits up and tries to blink the sleep from his eyes. He peers at Alex tiredly. “Alex?” He speaks in a hushed murmur, voice slightly scratchy. “Where’re you going?”

“I just need to write something down,” Alex replies quietly. Of course by _something_ , he means an entire essay. “Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.” 

“Stay,” John says, hand still closed around his wrist. “Please?”

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone,” Alex says. “Promise.”

“You never are,” John mutters, and Alex feels his heart break a little at that. “You’re up at six and gone before seven. I always miss you.”

Alex smiles sadly, moving to catch John’s face with his hand and drop a kiss on his head. “Go to sleep,” he says again.

“It’s still dark outside,” John continues. His eyes are still half-lidded with sleep and Alex can tell he’s trying hard to stay awake. “Take a break. You probably have carpal tunnel by now.”

Alex huffs out a laugh. “I’ve had carpal tunnel for years,” he says, and taps John on the nose, watching as John blinks at that. “It’s early, go to sleep.”

“It’s early, stay with me,” John bargains, clutching his hands. He yawns, falling back on the bed and tugging Alex down with him. 

Alex allows himself to be pulled down, resting a head on John’s chest, eyes falling shut despite himself. “I need to write,” he mumbles. “I need to--”

John laughs--not a clear, ringing laugh, but a low rumble, one that Alex feels vibrate through his bones. “Take a break, Alex,” he says and the words are so soft, so kind, so perfectly John. “You don’t always have to be nonstop. Let me catch up for once.”

Alex smiles at that, whispers, _you don’t need to catch up, you’re already with me_ , and settles for listening to the John’s steady heartbeat rather than the clacking of keyboard keys.

He knows that they’ll wake up in the morning, when the sun rises, light pouring through their window. He knows that the sun is only the second brightest thing to John’s eyes, knows that the _real_ sun is the one who’s with him right now, knows that the morning only really starts when John smiles.

He knows all this and closes his eyes tight, for once letting sleep consume him. “Okay,” he mumbles into John’s chest. “I’ll sleep. Five more minutes.” 

He doesn’t get up for another twenty. 


End file.
